


Happy New Year, Mr. Scamander

by Dopamineandducks



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Adorkable, F/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Newt Has Adult Themed Thoughts and Feels Guilty, Poor awkward Newt, Sexual Tension, fluuufffff, he tries, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dopamineandducks/pseuds/Dopamineandducks
Summary: Newt agrees to join a New Year's Eve excursion to a speakeasy with one goal: steal a kiss from Tina at midnight





	

**Author's Note:**

> *nervously leaves duck pond in Asgard to join the lovely people over in Harry Potter world*
> 
> *timidly leaves fic here and flies away*
> 
> \- The Duck

Newt wasn’t an illegal jazz club kind of man—he was more of an “illegal transport of magical creatures in foreign country” kind of man. However, since he landed himself on MACUSA’s map as a person of interest/consult for magical beasties, that “hobby” had gotten quite difficult. Despite not particularly enjoying the boisterous speakeasy scene, Jacob managed to convince Newt to join him and the Goldstein sisters for a night of clubbing on New Year’s Eve. He let Jacob believe he guilted him into joining the excursion by claiming the four of them were rarely ever together and that it would be a great chance to catch up and have fun. When in reality, Jacob confessing his hopes to steal a kiss from Queenie at midnight brought a hopeful thought to Newt’s mind: maybe— _just maybe_ —he’d get a kiss from Tina.

So that’s how he ended up at Toil and Trouble, a very illegal and magical speakeasy in Manhatten. The evening had a rough start. He and Jacob met the girls outside of their apartment at 8 o’clock for a quick bite to eat before the club. Of course he figured Queenie would be dolled up more than usual, but he didn’t expect it from Tina. He paled when he saw her appear on the front stoop, eyes large and bright from the dark eyeshadow on her lids, lips plump and inviting from her red lipstick, cheeks red with rouge and chill, and hair perfectly styled in trendy waves. Her face was bright with laughter—Queenie had just told a joke, but Newt didn’t hear it. He was struck dumb from the vision in front of him.

Despite the overwhelming thoughts consuming his brain and the heat rising in his belly, he managed to offend her, though he wasn’t sure how. One moment she was laughing and bickering playfully with her sister the next, the mirth vanished from Tina’s face and replaced by one of discomfort. She clutched the collar of her coat closer to her throat, and carefully navigated her way around the men and down the street with Queenie’s arm looped through hers. Newt stared after them, confused until Jacob whacked his arm.

“Come on, man.” He gave him a look of nonplussed disapproval.

“Wh-what did I do?” He wondered if everyone but him had become a Legilimens and could to read the less than wholesome thoughts he had about Tina.

“Just watch the faces you make at the girls,” he said as he shoved him down the sidewalk after the sisters. “I know they’re tough, but gaping at them after they spent hours dolling themselves up will really crush their spirit.”

He’d like to say that the night got better from there; that Jacob’s brusque warning worked and he was able to relax and fall back on the charm his mother _swore_ he had. But no. His behavior didn’t improve at dinner. It got worse.

They selected a small bistro for something light—don’t want to cut the rug on a full stomach lest you want to vomit! The bistro itself was rather cold; they apparently didn’t cook very much and the storefront spent most of the time in the shade, so everybody kept their overcoats on for warmth.The table they dined at was small and uncomfortable. Everybody’s knees bumped into everybody else’s under the table. Newt’s legs were too long to fit underneath so he wound up sitting angled away from the table with his legs spread slightly wider than he was comfortable with. Of course he was facing Tina’s direction, which embarrassed him beyond imagination. He spent the night avoiding her gaze, only glancing at her briefly to answer anything she asked him directly. The rest of the time he spent thinking about new creatures he could add to the second edition of his book, which was already in the works. It was the only way to keep Queenie from inadvertently—or intentionally—prying into his mind and discovering he wanted to have Tina straddling his hips.

Again, the girls left ahead of them towards the club and Jacob whacked him a second time, this time harder.

“You’re killing me, Newt, seriously,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “You think Queenie’s gonna be kissin’ anyone if she takes Tina home before midnight because you’re being a jerk to her?”

Newt deflated. “I don’t mean to!”

“Loosen up!” he clapped Newt’s shoulders. “She’s just Tina. You _know_ her. You’ve never had problems talking to her before.”

 _She’s never looking so terrifyingly beautiful before either,_ he thought. Of course he found her plainer appearance beautiful. Her soft, warm brown eyes and easy smile were comforts to him. He was never aware of his awkward social skills or shortcomings when she was around. She felt safe to be around and he felt accepted with her. That was perhaps the most beautiful thing about her.

However, her appearance tonight—“all dolled up” as Jacob said—intimidated him. She suddenly felt miles out of his league; like she wouldn’t even dare give him the time of day, much less kiss him at midnight for an innocent tradition. Any attractive man oozing with confidence and masculinity from every pore seemed like a better fit for her than his lanky, gauche self.

“Get it together, man,” Jacob brushed his arm encouragingly and clapped him on the back. “You got this.”

Once at Toil and Trouble—apparently _the_ spot to herald in the new year given how packed the joint was—they scoped out a table in a smoky corner. Tina removed her large overcoat and draped it over her chair. Newt barely had enough sense to swallow his gasp. Her dress would haunt his dreams: a simple, short black dress with simple silver beading at the hips, but a daring, plunging neckline and low back. The expanse of skin displayed on her chest and back filled him with fantasies. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from following the string of pearls to her plunging neckline and wonder what was beyond.

“Gigglewater for everyone,” Queenie chirped as she set down four shot glasses on the table. Newt immediately diverted his thoughts elsewhere lest Queenie discover him. They knocked back the shots simultaneously and giggled like mad pixies for a spell.

The laughter and alcohol (but mostly the alcohol) helped Newt loosen up. His shoulders fell from his ears, and he was able to look at Tina without devolving into a fit of nervous jerks and stammers. Queenie couldn’t keep away from the dance floor a moment longer and dragged Jacob off into the fray.

Newt’s courage departed with his friend. He was once again aware of himself, his awkward mannerisms, boring interests, and startling lack of confidence around women. His eyes averted Tina again and all conversation on his part was monosyllabic.

Still, she persisted and asked if he’d like to dance. Desperate to show he wasn’t put off by her, he jumped at the opportunity. Her face lit up with a smile that filled his chest with warmth. He placed a charm on the table to ward off anyone who attempted to steal it and followed her to the dance floor, his sweaty fingers held loosely in her hand.

They were surrounded by throngs of drunk witches and wizards shimmying and doing the Charleston. Newt didn’t often find himself in situations where dancing was required and emulated the crowd as best he could. His dancing turned out to be a strange combination of bobbing at the knees and shaking his torso with elbows bent at 45 degree angles. He knew he looked ridiculous. He could feel it. Not too far away from him, Jacob was cutting the rug with Queenie like a pro, his forehead slick with sweat and shirt damp from exertion. Still, he moved as if he invented the dance, a wide grin plastered on his face with Queenie giggling and dancing just as expertly with him.

He froze. He could execute an erumpent mating dance to perfection but couldn’t figure out how to dance like the rest his species. Dancing was a human mating ritual after all, when one thought about it. How he managed to master other species’ mating customs, yet be so devastatingly incompetent in his own embarrassed him to no end. He wished he was in his case.

Worse yet, Tina pitied him. Sensing his discomfort, she guided him by the arm back to the table. He wished he could speed up time to when a more eligible suitor finally whisked Tina away from him so he could stop waiting for it to happen. Get the heartbreak over and done with so he could get back to work. As if reading his thoughts, Tina slipped away from the table after giving him a quick pat on the arm. His head fell to his chest in defeat. He couldn’t stand to see who she went off with.

Not five minutes later, she returned with two tall glasses of clear liquid.

“It’s a Gin Merlin,” she said in answer to his perplexed face as she squeezed a lemon into her drink. “A modification of a No-Maj drink. It’s good.” She took a swig from the drink and gasped sharply. “That’s the stuff.”

Curious, Newt took a sip of his own and coughed. He never deviated much from tea—maybe coffee if he was feeling adventurous, but spirits certainly weren’t the kind of drink he was intimately familiar with. The drink was dry and burned all the way down his throat. A hint of citrus burst in his mouth at the end. Tina watched him with an amused grin on her face.

“Good, huh?”

Newt coughed again. “Yes.”

She smiled warmly at him. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach. He dropped his gaze down to his drink. Sweat rolled down the glass and stained the dark wood table top. He could feel Tina watching him, and he wished he had the guts to just look at her.

“You’re not much of a jazz man, are you?” she said after a moment.

He flinched. “No. I mean the music is nice—exciting, and the culture and impact of it is intriguing, but no... Not overly fond of jazz clubs.”

“What do you like then? Music-wise.”

He thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure. I have a phonograph in my case, but I don’t listen to it often.”

“You must have records for it.”

He sat back in his chair and tried to recall. He could see the record sleeves resting on a pile next to the device, which was hidden beneath a floral sheet if he remembered correctly. He watched a wisp of smoke curl through the air. “Chopin, certainly. My mother is very fond of his nocturnes and gave me a copy for my birthday one year. _The Magic Flute_ may be there as well, and Claude Debussy.”

“Classical, then? Piano stuff.”

He nodded. “Now that I think of it, I have a recording of Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_ that the mooncalves are very fond of. They gather around the phonograph and sway to it.”

“How appropriate!”

He smiled, chuckling lightly to himself, and glanced at her. She was smiling at him, her hands folded neatly in her lap and head tilted slightly to one side. He had forgotten himself amid her questions. Forgot of his nerves and forgot of her appearance. He felt himself clamming up again, and tried to resist it.

He took a more generous drink of his Gin Merlin. “D-do you like music?”

She shrugged. “I like jazz just fine,” she waved towards the band playing on the stage. A beautiful witch in a long red dress had taken center stage to sing. “Not too fond of dancing to it though.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why did you ask to dance then?”

 “Seems like the thing to do in a jazz club.”

He conceded to her point and took another sip from his drink. His vision swam momentarily and made a mental note to slow down. “Do you like them? Jazz clubs, I mean.”

She shrugged again. “Not really. I’m not much of a loud-crowded-room-of-drunk-strangers kind of girl. I wanted to stay at home with a glass of wine, a quilt, and a book. Queenie wouldn’t have it, though.”

Newt lost himself again as he stared at her with new appreciation. “I came because Jacob insisted.”

She leaned forward. Newt tried to ignore how her dress puckered at her cleavage. “And what would a perfect New Year’s Eve for Newt Scamander look like?”

He violently pushed away the thoughts of them entangled in bed sheets. “Spending time with my creatures.”

“Would you like to go see them?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Would you like to go see your creatures,” she repeated. “I think we both kinda confessed we’d rather not be here. Why torment ourselves for them”—she nodded at Queenie and Jacob who were still having the time of their lives on the dance floor—“when they’re not even aware of us?”

Newt watched the couple dancing: Queenie looked every bit like the sun shimmying in her gold dress of tassels and beads, and Jacob looked like he had died to gone to heaven. They looked like they were only aware of each other. The rest of the world may as well have not existed. It warmed Newt’s heart to see them so happy.

“What about Queenie?”

“She can take care of herself,” she said as she slipped back into her coat, “Besides, Jacob’s with her. I can’t imagine anything happening to them.”

He thought of giving them a courtesy notice that they were leaving, but Tina was already halfway towards the door. He grabbed his coat and weaved through the crowd after her. The shock of the cold air once outside exhilarated him. Tina, however, was already shaking despite her heavy coat. Her legs had nothing but thin stockings and high heel shoes to protect her from the freezing night.

“Wh-where’s your c-case?” she chattered.

“At my hotel,” he said, “Shall we Apparate?”

She nodded vigorously, looped her arms through his, and huddle close to him, her teeth chattering violently. Newt swallowed from their proximity, and quickly transported them to his hotel room.

His accommodations were nice. His book was doing well enough to enable him to rent a very decent room, but he never spent enough time in the room itself to ever desire anything too fancy. The time he didn’t spend with Tina, Queenie, Jacob, MACUSA, or any other obligation, was always spent in the case. The room was warm and quiet, and that was all that really mattered at the moment.

She removed her coat and threw it carelessly on his bed. He was glad he didn’t have to guard his thoughts from Queenie any longer. The sight of Tina in his hotel room at night in that dress was perfectly scandalous. He tried to push the thought away, but a small, primal part of him enjoyed it.

He pulled his case out from under his bed and unlatched it in the middle of the floor. He stood and offered his hand to Tina.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “None of them have escaped, right?”

He flashed her what he hoped was a grin and not a grimace. “Not this time.”

She smiled, took his hand, and eased herself down into the case. Once she reached the bottom, Newt followed after her. He took care of all the chores earlier before he got ready for the evening, so there was no work that _needed_ to get done. Meaning, the visit could be purely for joy, which is how he preferred showing his creatures.

While the jazz club was obnoxiously loud and his hotel room startlingly quiet, the case was filled with sounds of life. There was a dull murmur of various creature noises blended together. Occasionally specific voices were prominent: the snort of an erumpent, gentle whooping of mooncalves, a snarling kneazle, and other sounds that were largely indistinguishable to anyone but Newt. His muscles released, his shoulders dropping farther from his ears and a large breath rushing out of him. He felt lighter. It was impossible for him to feel tense in his case. It was his home and it always brought him comfort.

He hung his coat on a peg by the ladder and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. Tina had already left the “foyer” of his case and had ventured in barefoot, her heels and stockings haphazardly kicked off to the side. He smiled. The way she eagerly but cautiously poked ahead made him think of the Muggle story _Alice in Wonderland._ He shoved his hands in his pockets and trailed her, his eyes following where her head turned.

“I remember you,” she said as they came up on a mound of earth in the middle of the case. The Niffler, sprawled out in his burrow, lifted his head from a nest of treasure. She leaned over to get a better look at him. He blinked his beady black eyes.

Newt had difficulty containing the smile on his face. “I’m sure he remembers you too. His adventures have been extremely limited since your first meeting.”

“Awww, I’m sorry little guy. I didn’t meant to get you under house arrest!”

The Niffler had no interest for anything but the string of pearls dangling from her neck. He brazenly stretched his paw toward the pearlescent beads. Newt, however, was wise to the thieving creature and clapped the necklace back against Tina’s chest just as the Niffler’s grasp grazed it. Tina stood upright as Newt pushed her necklace back against her. He blushed and dropped his hand.

“Got to watch out for that buggar,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, forgot about that part.” She pointed a warning finger at the furry creature and gave him her best “I’m an Auror so _watch it_ ” look. The Niffler merely searched her finger for any rings. Tina tossed her head back and laughed as Newt grasped her shoulders and guided her away.

He happily led her through the habitats, reacquainting her with creatures she met before and introducing her to his new charges, her favorite being a golden snidget that was perched in a tree near the occamies. Newt found the poor creature while strolling through the countryside near his parent’s house a month or so ago with a fractured wing. He brought it to the case to nurse it back to health. The bird was healed at this point, but became severely distressed whenever he tried to release it. It was content to flit around the case, singing merrily to its roommates, and the other creatures appeared to enjoy it.

“They typically don’t stay at rest for too long,” Newt explained as he stretched his index finger towards the highest branch where it perched, “But this one seems to be getting lazy. Come on, Miss Charlie. Come to mummy.”

The snidget eyed his finger warily before hopping onto his knuckle. The movement was so quick Tina hardly saw it. He lowered the bird so that she could have a better view.

“Can I touch it,” she asked.

“If she’ll let you.”

He watched her slowly extend her index finger to the golden bird, her eyes wide and lips parted. Warmth bloomed inside of him as her finger touched the bird’s chest, causing her face to light up beautifully. Miss Charlie tweeted, sounding very much like a sweet flute, and ruffled her plumage. Tina laughed as she gently stroked her feathers.

The bird took flight without warning. It shot into the air in a gold blur and darted around the case, her sweet song ringing out in her wake. The occamies rattled and hissed in pleasure as she circled their nest and flitted away. Tina did her best to track it, but eventually lost sight of it.

“They were originally used as golden snitches when Quidditch was first invented,” Newt said. He lost sight of the bird ages ago, but didn’t have the heart to distract Tina from trying to spot it before she was ready to stop.

“That makes sense,” she said as she drifted off in another direction of the case. “I was always a lousy seeker anyway.”

The night went along so wonderfully that he eventually forgot its abysmal start...and what day it was for that matter. Tina convinced him to bring out the phonograph and demonstrate how much the mooncalves loved Beethoven. After wrestling the bulky machine to their habitat, he placed the recording of _Moonlight Sonata_ on the turntable and touched the needle on the record. As he described earlier, the mooncalves pranced over to the music and swayed in unison in a hypnotic semicircle.

Tina covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. Newt stood with his arms folded across his chest like a proud father. He found himself swaying to the melody as well, remembering that he also enjoyed the famed Muggle composer.

He jumped as Tina slid her hand around his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. His insides lit up in an instant. He swallowed hard, blinked rapidly as if dust blew into his eyes, and couldn’t help but tense his bicep. She giggled sleepily and he hoped to high heavens it wasn’t _at_ him.

“T-tired?” he asked as he willed his body to become unnaturally still. He felt her nod against him, then gasped.

“What time is it?”

He blinked. “What?”

“What time is it? It must be almost 12 by now?”

He suddenly remembered the occasion they were supposed to be celebrating, and fumbled with the gold chain attached to the watch in his pocket. He flipped the cover open and frowned.

“1:15,” he said, his chest deflating.

“Damn,” she yawned.

 He tried to push down the bitter disappointment bubbling from his stomach up into his throat. He imagined Jacob kissed Queenie at midnight like he hoped, of course there was no doubt in him succeeding. It was transparently clear they were head over heels for each other. Newt didn’t have such confidence in the reciprocity of his feelings though. He couldn’t for a second believe a brave, modern woman like Tina Goldstein would be interested in him. Given that humans subconsciously selected mates based on the quality of genes they could pass to their offspring, he was probably as far from qualified as he could get. He wasn’t a top choice mate: he was Newt Scamander—scrawny, annoying, and awkward.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” he said as she had another large yawn. She nodded and headed towards the door, her arm still looped through his. He held her steady as she stepped into her heels, grunting and complaining as she did so.

“I hate these shoes,” she grumbled. He offered her a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She furrowed her brow. “You okay, Newt?”

He remembered himself and gave her a smile he hoped was more convincing. “Yeah, just tired I suppose. Long night.”

“I enjoyed it.”

He perked up. “Did you?”

A grand smile spread on her face. “Yeah. Much better than that club. It was a perfect way to spend New Year’s, even though we missed midnight.”

Words escaped him. He never would have thought anyone would enjoy hearing him ramble on about his creatures and research for any length of time. It was one of his more “annoying” traits, or so he had been told numerous times before. “I’d be happy to show it to you anytime,” he managed to say after a moment.

Her smile faded, and the light in her face shifted. Tension grew and Newt desperately searched his last statement for anything that may have offended her. As he always did when nervous, he blabbered.

“I mean, of course, if you wanted to. I don’t mean to presume you’d want to. I only meant to say that you’re always welcome here, and I think Miss Charlie is awfully fond of you and would love to have you back. We all would—I mean _they_ would. Not to say that _I_ wouldn’t either, I’m fond of you too, er, I mean—”

He was effectively silenced by her lips pressing against his. Her kiss was firm, but not demanding. It was a statement and an invitation—very clear ones at that. Newt’s face heated like fire and his body was suddenly very alive. He chased her lips eagerly as she pulled back from his initial lack of response. Her lips parted for him, and his inexperience became painfully evident. If Tina minded, she didn’t let on. She guided his arms around her waist before wrapping her own around his neck. Patiently, she schooled him, allowing him to practice exploring her mouth his tongue. His hands timidly traveled from their stiff resting spot at the small of her back, up to her shoulders. She inhaled and pressed herself against him as his hands swept over her exposed flesh. He held her to him as she ran her fingers through his hair, their lips never parting.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that. Long enough for his feet to hurt from standing still for so long, but he didn’t want to be the first to break it off. Sadly, she pulled away. Her mouth was red and swollen. A bit of pride and disbelief swelled in him knowing that he was the reason for it. She rested her forehead against his and stepped impossibly closer to him.

“Happy New Year, Mr. Scamander,” she whispered.

He didn’t even try to stop himself from grinning. “Happy New Year, Miss Goldstein.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
